Forbidden Fruit
by EspoirDio
Summary: Another story prompt. Fran gives Niles a romantic novel for his birthday that happens to be written by... C.C.?


**A/N: Hi guys! Once again it's story prompt time! :) This one was given to me by R.C. Babcock. I'd copy/paste the exact prompt here but it was in German lol But it was something like "It's Niles' birthday and Fran presents him with a trashy romance novel. At first he's a little offended but then Fran convinces him that it's different than all the others. The book was written by C.C. and is about their relationship." I've come up with a little variation on that but I hope you'll still like it. Let me know your thoughts :) (Oh and bonus points to anyone who knows where that first book quote is from lol)**

Forbidden Fruit

Niles Brightmore was lying on his bed, contemplating life, as he so often did when his birthday came around. What had once been a source of great happiness and sometimes in his youth even an excuse for a big party with his mates that none of them could really afford, had slowly become the single most depressing day of his life.

It was a time to realise that he was still stuck in his old job and had no further accomplishments in his love life either. He was lonely and frustrated, forced to watch the family he was assigned to grow around him while he remained alone. The only thing that had increased for him, he thought with much bitterness, was the number of wrinkles on his face.

This year, he supposed, he could at least count himself lucky that they hadn't forgotten his birthday altogether. Though the rushed well wishes and drinks hadn't exactly left him with a fuzzy feeling inside. He had felt like just another chore that needed to be ticked off the to-do list.

A sudden knock on the door startled him and he reluctantly lifted his head to see who had come to intrude on his self-pity. "Come in!"

"Hello, birthday boy!" Fran crooned and stalked into his room, closing the door behind her.

"I wish you'd stop calling me "boy", it only makes me more depressed," he sighed.

"Trust me, Niles, if you gotta learn one thing it's that there's always a boy inside a man," she winked and laughed and then sat down on the edge of his bed, ignoring his obvious desire to be alone "and trust me that little boy will want to come out and play once he sees this gift."

"Miss Fine, please, I'm a 52 year old and I'd appreciate it if you'd address me as such."

The Nanny broke briefly into a frown and hummed. "You're cranky today but not for loooong!"

He rolled his eyes and took the present from her, unwrapping it instantly so he wouldn't have to witness her joyous outburst anymore but against her predictions, his face didn't light up either when he saw what he was holding in his hands.

"And? And?" the brunette probed, ignoring his clear lack of enthusiasm.

"I have to admit I'm a little offended."

"Yaaa-what?" she stopped, her bottom lip protruding in a pout.

"Well, it is obvious that you had forgotten about my birthday yet again and when you realised this you felt guilty and just used this book from your own collection to make it seem as if you'd planned this all along."

"My God, talk about harbouring a grudge," Fran commented but quickly continued "but no no. I do love Patricia Goddard's books but this here is something else. Trust me, you'll enjoy it."

Niles sighed deeply and pulled up his shoulders in a semi-shrug, suddenly too tired to fight. "If you say so," he nodded, placing the thick volume called "Forbidden Fruit" on his nightstand with no intention of ever reading it.

"I do," she smiled "you'll see, it's right up ya alley."And she stood up and laughed as if she had just told the most original joke in the world. "Enjoy the rest of your birthday, Scarecrow."

"Thank you, Miss Fine," he nodded, deflation obvious in his voice again.

* * *

One day bled into the next and the book remained untouched on his nightstand until he had a particularly vicious exchange with C.C. Babcock. The blonde had always been good for a round of witty banter or two, but since his heart attack their relationship had changed. Now it was almost too easy to make her fly off the handle and with her sudden weight gain, she certainly presented a good target.

C.C. had not only stoically refused to acknowledge his birthday (something that had hurt him more than he was willing to admit) but had also upped her repertoire of insults when it came to issues such as his age or his station in life. And before he'd know what was happening he had unleashed all of his anger on her and her figure which concerned him, at best, but wasn't grounds enough for the words that he hurled at her.

So now he lay awake, pondering how he could possibly make amends when the word "apology" had never even existed in their vocabulary before. Sitting up, he fluffed his pillows to be more comfortable when his eyes fell on the book once more. At first he scoffed at it, trying to re-direct his thoughts to the main issue at hand, but when he found that he was still incapable of making any progress, he reached for it, figuring that it might just be bad enough to put him to sleep. He started by flicking through some pages but the paragraph _"With a gasp of dismay she ran to him, her amethyst eyes wide with alarm. "You fool," she hissed "suppose someone saw you!""_ was enough to put him off.

Quickly, he shut the book again, switched off the light and shimmied around on his back in hopes of finding a more comfortable position that would allow him to go back to sleep. But as soon as he closed his eyes, his thoughts drifted back to the fight with C.C. that had marked the first time in a while that he had seen her look truly hurt.

Groaning, he sat back up, switched on the light and reached for the book once more. He stuck with it throughout the first chapter in which most of the main protagonists were established, all of which sounded far too flawless to be believable. There was the poor butler, who'd had so many ambitions in life but whose fate had been decided by his parents but who despite all these complications hadn't lost his humour and optimism. And then there was the rich woman he desired, who put on a cold front for everyone else but who softened when he was around.

Catching up with his thoughts he paused for a moment but quickly dismissed any similarities as coincidental. But the more he read, the more he couldn't help but notice that several of the characters' attributes and some of the scenarios fitted perfectly with him and a certain blonde socialite. He frowned and put the book aside when he felt his eyes growing heavy after a while, falling into dreams filled with re-enactments of scenes he had just read.

* * *

"About the present you gave me," he started the next day, when Fran joined him in the kitchen after breakfast.

"Oh I knew you'd love it." She grinned mischievously and elbowed him in the ribs "Hoohaa, ey?"

"I…I suppose," he stammered and shook his head "is that why you gave it to me?"

"Yeah, we both know it's been a while and I thought-" She stopped abruptly when he narrowed his eyes at her, giving her a doubtful and interrogating look.

"No other reason?" he questioned when she didn't continue talking.

Fran evaded his eyes and busied herself putting butter and milk back into the fridge.

"Miss Fine?"

"I thought you might…identify with the butler," she mumbled, still keeping her back turned to him.

"Just the butler?" he probed further.

Suddenly Fran turned and asked with a slightly smug smile: "Why? Is there anything else you'd identify with?"

Now it was Niles who hurriedly averted his eyes. Taking this as an admission of guilt, Fran grinned broader and went over into Yenta mode.

"Why dontcha just tell her?"

"I wouldn't know what you're talking about, Miss Fine." Niles mumbled, his hands mechanically washing the dishes.

"Gustavo does it too! After their affair has gone on for quite some time he pulls all his courage together and tells her how he feels."

"Well, that's easy enough for Gustavo who pleases his mistress like no other man has done before and who still has the perfect body despite his age." Niles muttered, rolling his eyes.

"So you have feelings for her!" Fran announced and he swiftly shot an angry glare in her direction.

"Keep your voice down and I still don't know what you're talking about."

"Then why do I have to be quiet?" she grinned "Anyway, just do it like Gustavo…you go to her, you prepare-"

"Spoilers!" Niles exclaimed, holding up one soap covered hand "I haven't reached that part yet and I wish to be surprised."

Fran reluctantly closed her mouth again and then shook her head. "Gustavo would be so disappointed in you."

* * *

Niles didn't pay much more attention to her words and settled into bed that night with the book in his hands. He hadn't expected to become so engrossed in a trashy novel but perhaps that was just the natural succession after becoming obsessed with Women's Weeklies. What was next? Mexican Soap Operas?

That night he read several chapters again until he had almost reached the end of the book where a major plot twist rattled him awake once more. The butler had suffered a heart attack and his rich mistress had suddenly found herself caring for him far more than she'd intended. Niles swallowed, reading descriptions of how she wandered around the empty mansion clutching his pocket watch or how she grieved over his unmoving body at the hospital.

This behaviour matched that of C.C.'s when he'd had his heart attack almost eerily. At least if he could take Fran's word for it. Could it really be just a coincidence? He flipped the book closed and studied the front page. The author's name was Patricia Goddard. But had he really expected to find C.C.'s name sprawled on the cover of a romance novel? He shook his head at himself and put the book away, trying to settle in for the night but his brain was too busy trying to process his assumptions.

* * *

Over the course of the week he finished the book but continued to lose more sleep chasing his fantasies. So when Friday came around and he suddenly found himself alone in a room with C.C. for the first time since their fight, he decided to do a little investigation.

"What?" she asked before even a single word had managed to make it past his lips.

"What?" he frowned back "Nothing…I'm just standing here."

"Exactly," she nodded "you've served the drinks, you've laid out the sandwiches. So why aren't you getting back to your gossip buddy?"

"I…I wasn't…" he stammered and then groaned frustrated because of it.

"What? Struggling to come up with another insult? I thought my body provided enough possibilities?"

"Well, it is obvious now that an elephant never forgets…" Niles muttered under his breath and cursed himself a second later for having gone down this path again.

C.C. looked ready to lunge at him and he had needed her to be in a good mood if he wanted to get any answers. So before she could fling a fitting retort back at him, he lifted his hands and said: "I apologise, Miss Babcock. I didn't mean to insult you like this."

C.C.'s mouth hung open for a few seconds as she was trying to digest this turn of events and Niles had to resist the urge to send another zinger her way. Once she had closed her mouth again, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously and eyed him up and down. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, feigning innocence "just a pleasant conversation that doesn't escalate into an argument."

"Since when?" she scoffed "You're the happiest when you can make other people miserable."

Her comment stung but he forced himself to ignore it for the time being.

"You're a bit of a literature aficionado, aren't you?" he asked instead and watched as a frown appeared on her face, as her confusion grew.

"I do like to read, yes," she answered carefully, as if expecting it to be a trap.

"Have you ever considered writing a book yourself?" Niles continued conversationally with a friendly smile.

The confusion on her face briefly disappeared and made way to a glimmer of surprise which she quickly managed to hide again. "Not really. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a little too busy to take up pointless big projects."

"I wouldn't call it pointless," he mumbled and added as an alibi "when I was in the hospital I was just pondering if I should tackle a book."

"About?" she cackled "The biography of a lonely, pathetic butler? Please, the world is in a bad enough state as it is."

"Well," Niles started, grinding his teeth "I'll let you get back to your big, important project. Your "Glamour" won't read itself."

With a brief sense of satisfaction he watched her trying to hide the magazine that had been peeking out from a pile of paperwork and then marched out of the room.

* * *

Her answer had deflated him but the look in her eyes nonetheless gave him hope that there was more to this story than she was willing to admit. So he made it his quest to find out more about Patricia Goddard, to discover an image perhaps or some other information as to her background that would help him deduct if it was indeed C.C. who had written the book. He started with Fran who had called herself an avid admirer but who could only recite the stories and knew nothing more about the woman behind them. And further investigations also only led to dead ends so that two weeks later, the only interesting piece of information he'd managed to gather was that the couple of books had all been published several years ago.

He was beginning to get so obsessed with the book and the possibilities, should C.C. really be the author, that he overlooked several logical facts. If the book had been written years ago, how could C.C. have known that he was going to have a heart attack? But Niles had dared to hope that the future with the blonde he'd always imagined could become a reality, that he wasn't going to back out now. But how could he make progress from now on when all sources had run dry? The only person who could've told him something about C.C.'s activities in the past was Sara and unfortunately he wasn't with them any longer. He pondered calling Noel Babcock for a moment but quickly discarded this option again. While he and his sister had a good relationship (by Babcock standards) he was almost as big of a fish wife as Niles and would no doubt relay all the details to her before Niles had even managed to hang up the phone. But then it came to him, the one way he could get answers from Sara still without needing her there in the flesh.

If Maxwell was surprised that his butler suddenly offered to clean out the attic, he didn't show it. And Niles, who had counted on this kind of indifference, eagerly got on with the task. If the numbers of boxes and knickknacks that littered the floor had seemed daunting at first, they had now turned into valuable relics that could provide the insight he needed.

But no amount of commitment could prevent the little pang of grief he felt when coming across several mementos of the late Mrs Sheffield's life. He felt an inexplicable urge to look through the wedding album or rifle through the holiday souvenirs that Sara had deemed invaluable but he knew that he needed to push on. Not just for the task he had set himself but also for the sake of his own sanity.

Finally, in one of the boxes he came across a stack of notes and letters. Quick to discard them at first, his eye finally caught one line and his movements halted.

 _"Chastity, your PG's stories are becoming quite the hit. But don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I fully understand the implications should the truth come out."_

He almost yelled out in triumph, but settled for punching the air instead. Pocketing the letter, he abandoned his cleaning and climbed down the ladder with a satisfied smirk on his face. Finally he had the piece of evidence he needed. Now there was no way she could explain her way out of this. But it wasn't just about discovering the truth, it wasn't all about the smugness he felt at having unearthed this treasure. His heart was beating rapidly at the realisation that this meant that C.C. Babcock, the Bitch of Broadway, had to have feelings for him as well. Why else would she use all their moments for a romantic novel? But for now he had to put his excitement aside and think about this rationally. Barging into the office and flailing the letter about would not gather a positive response from C.C. and would get them nowhere. No, they had to be alone and he had to think this through. After all, there was much more riding on this now than just simply proving a point.

* * *

Luckily for Niles, an opportunity presented itself the following evening when his boss arrived at the dinner table with a disgruntled look on his face. But because this wasn't a rare occurrence, Niles didn't even consider for a moment to question it. It was only a little while later when he caught his muttered complaints and the words "C.C." and "contracts" in one sentence, that he sensed his chance.

"I'm sorry, Sir," he interrupted the conversation more politely than he otherwise might've done "I couldn't help but overhear that there is some paperwork you'd like Miss Babcock to look at?"

"Yes," the dark-haired man sighed "the agent of one of our stars has got in touch and faxed over a change to the contract that seemed fairer too him. Usually C.C. handles these matters. She's better at judging if alterations are justified or not and if she finds they aren't, well, she has that special way of handling the situation."

"Indeed," Niles commented dryly, unable to keep an amused grin off his face.

"But he can't go now," Fran intersected "because he promised us a movie night."

"Well, in that case, why don't I take the contracts to Miss Babcock?" Niles offered with what he hoped to pass up as a neutral expression.

"That would be marvellous! Thank you, old man." Maxwell clearly didn't occur to him to question his butler's newfound enthusiasm. "I've left them on the desk in the office."

"I'll get them right away, Sir." Niles said, indicated a little bow and then quickly swept out of the room, before Fran's knowing look could burn a whole into his skull.

* * *

Arriving at her front door, however, with the letter stuffed away in his breast pocket and an envelope containing the revised contracts in his hands, he suddenly hesitated. What if he still wouldn't manage to coax the truth out of her? But it was too late to back out now. She already knew he was there and when would he be given a second opportunity like this?

He lifted his hands and quickly knocked and a minute later the door was opened.

"So which contracts does he need me to check so urgently?" C.C. asked without further greeting and waited for him to step inside.

"One of the actors, apparently." Niles replied and handed the envelope to her in passing.

Closing the door, she fished out the papers and haphazardly discarded the envelope on a little table.

"Thank you for delivering them so promptly, Niles." He cooed teasingly "Now that you're here, would you like a drink?"

"I only offer drinks to people I actually want to stay."

"Awww, it's okay, Babcock. Beggers can't be choosers." He grinned and walked over to her drink cart to help himself to some Scotch.

"Get me one as well," she ordered loftily.

"So when I'm serving you I'm good enough to stay?" he questioned, reaching for another glass and filling it with Scotch as well.

"Yes," she grinned "I've been toying with the idea of a personal butler for a while."

"For this penthouse?" he scoffed, returning to the couch with their drinks "What's there to clean? Everything is so immaculate a baby could be delivered here. If I didn't know any better, I'd say nobody even lives here."

She frowned at him, put the paperwork aside and reached for her glass. "Perfect for someone as lazy as you then."

And she downed the contents quickly. They both stayed silent for a bit while Niles nursed his own drink, hoping that it would give him the courage to go ahead.

"Do you often think about our kiss in the den?" he finally asked bluntly, somewhat amused by the speed her eyes darted to him.

Until then it had been as if they'd had a silent pact never to mention that moment again.

"What?"

"Or the stroll we took along the beach when we were celebrating Miss Margaret's first birthday?"

He was pleased to see that he had caught her so off-guard that she couldn't prevent the light blush that crept onto her cheeks.

"You really can't handle your liquor, can you?" she joked, and to his satisfaction he noticed her nervousness growing.

"I do," he admitted with a smile, ignoring her previous question "and I think you do too. I am happy to say that they've inspired certain…fantasies on my part as well. I'm glad to see they seem to have had the same effect on you, although I do wish you would've asked my permission before using them for your erotic novel."

"My what?" she asked, growing pale.

"It's alright, Patricia," he grinned "the cat's out of the bag. And I must say," he paused to extract the old letter from his breast pocket "that after reading "Forbidden Fruit" I am quite curious to see what other adventures you've covered in your other books."

Still looking shocked, C.C. took the letter from his hands and scanned it. He could tell by the way her eyes widened the precise moment when she'd reached the line that proved everything. The sense of excitement and hope bubbled up from the pit of his stomach again, and he scooted closer to the edge of the sofa. What he didn't expect, however, was to see her bursting into laughter a moment later.

"What's so funny?" he frowned.

"I thought you were going to blackmail me with this," she managed between waves of laughter "but you actually thought…the butler and the…" She stopped again, clutching her stomach.

Niles swallowed while the excitement disappeared as quickly as it had come. Instead he was beginning to feel a sickening sense of humiliation, of having stuck his head too far out of the window.

"You can't deny that some of these scenarios are…" he tried weakly, unable to look her in the eye.

"Maybe…I can't remember everything anymore…." She replied, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes "but didn't you check the publishing year?" She laughed again when she saw his blank expression. "Didn't you check the date of this letter? I was in college, my mother had just begun her affair with the butler and these stories were all the rage. I figured I might as well make something out of the mess that was my parents' marriage."

"Oh…"he swallowed and began to mechanically rise to his feet "but what about the heart attack?"

"Artistic license…" she chuckled "did you really think I'd write a trashy novel about _us_?"

The way she pronounced this last word, as it was something completely ludicrous, twisted his heart and sent blood rushing to his face.

"No, of course not," he mumbled, grabbing the coat he had draped over the sofa.

"Yes, yes you diiid!" she sing-songed "I bet you thought you'd have eternal ammunition against me now."

He muttered something incoherently and shuffled towards the door, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. So he didn't notice how her face turned into a frown and how her laughter slowly subsided. She'd expected him to be embarrassed, of course, but not to this extent. He seemed crushed somehow, defeated, and that took all the joy out of the situation.

"Why did you think I'd write a romantic novel about us, Niles?" she asked again, this time more carefully.

With a final effort at composure, he turned around to face her and quietly said: "I honestly don't know."

She nodded and watched him opening the door.

"Me neither," she then voiced before he could leave "do you really expect me to pine over you and blurt all my feelings out in some book?"

She chuckled again and he couldn't help but notice that the nervous edge had returned to it. Turning around once more with a questioning look on his face he absent-mindedly shut the door.

"If I was really interested in you, I'd make a move."

"I see," he nodded, not daring to break eye contact and half hoping that this wasn't her way of crushing him anew. So they both remained rooted to the spot.

"Or don't you think me woman enough?" C.C. finally challenged and his lips unwillingly turned into a grin.

"Now you're just asking for-"

"Oh shut up," she interrupted him and crushed her lips to his.

He was taken off-guard and pleasantly surprised at the same time, and wrapped his arms around her before she could disappear again. They continued kissing for what seemed like an eternity and yet not long enough at the same time. When she finally broke away, they both needed a moment to catch their breath.

"Now, Babcock, if you don't mind," he said, his voice a little raspy still "I'd like to refresh your memory by revisiting a scene from page 167. Time to mess up that counter a little."

Her sultry laugh made him shiver and wasting no time he eagerly tugged her towards the kitchen.


End file.
